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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23153383">The Surf Shop Around the Corner</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reybelle/pseuds/Reybelle'>Reybelle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:15:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23153383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reybelle/pseuds/Reybelle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You imagine an ocean. I see it. I see the island," whispered Kylo Ren to Rey.</p>
<p>Two surfer rivals unknowingly fall in love through an exchange of emails as each other's anonymous confidante.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Reylo Charity Anthology: Volume 2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Surf Shop Around the Corner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 1</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>The Secret Spot</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rey smiled as she stared at her laptop. Her heart fluttered at the sight of an unopened email from an address that she knew too well. For the past couple of weeks since her first email to him about surfing, she had received five long emails already. She had counted. And she had replied to each email just as eagerly and lengthily.</p>
<p>The next unopened email will be the sixth. She clicked it and her gaze danced on the heavy-worded response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>From: <span class="u">bs152@geemail.com</span></em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: <span class="u">surfgirrl@geemail.com</span></em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Date: Jan 30, 2020</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Subject: Surf spot</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Dear SurfGirrl,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Chewie. That’s the name of my dog my dad gave me. He’s a brown shaggy one with kind eyes and does not know how to bark nor bite. He can bark and bite. It’s just that he won’t do it. He’s friends with everyone. And everyone likes him. I feel lucky I have him or people won’t like me too much. I look like I bite people. And yes, I even bark, too. Nope, I was not kidding. So, how are you with dogs?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I miss Chewie. He’s not with me, now. The past weeks I had not been at home to oversee some kind of business. Not anything funny, though. It was more of tiring, really. To take a break from it all, especially from meeting lots of people—people can be really difficult and draining even if you already bark at them—I can still manage to do what I like best—surfing. You can already tell I’m somewhere where ocean waves are easily accessible. I like where I’m staying right now. Just by the beach. Just like you. It helps me calm down, shakes the stress away.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Anyway, what is it about the sea that we both like it so much? Or at least surfing. It can’t just be about the stoked feeling—that natural high you get. Maybe it is, but also more. I like it that when I’m out there on my surfboard, I don’t have to talk to anyone, and still, I feel connected. I can just be one with the ocean.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It can be a bit crowded where I’m at. I wish I had a secret surfing spot like you have. I can already imagine surfing every sunrise, be greeted by those great swells and not be bothered by anyone. And I think I just may get the same, too.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Just yesterday, I was doing my morning jog when I happened into this pathway to a forest. For a moment I thought I was lost, but I still went on and to my amazement, found a beach. There was no one else there and no nearby stalls or resorts, either. It was a really nice secluded area. I thought I was alone but as I looked ahead, I saw a local surfer enjoying one of the nicest waves I have ever seen. I was filled with envy. But not for long, as I may ride those waves, too, pretty soon.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I know we agreed to not give away anything too specific. No complete names so as we cannot google each other. And I like that. This not knowing has its charms. But it’s weird calling you SurfGirrl. What do you want me to call you? Please don’t say “just call me friend”. Of course you’re a friend, and I don’t want to get way over my head, but in a way, you’re not just a mere friend. I don’t email friends this way. Well, I don’t really have too many friends.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Anyways, that’s it for now. Gotta bolt. Still have some important dinner meeting to get to. Catch as many waves as you can for me, okay.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Take care always,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ben</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>P.S.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Trust me this name would not give me away since you already know my name from my uncle Luke</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rey read again the email. A smile was curving her lips. She wondered about what he should call her. What she wanted him to call her. <em>Sunflower. </em>She thought wistfully, her hands on her keyboard, typing away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sun slowly crept up behind the mountains. Rey took a long deep breath in and let out a long grateful sigh. She repeated this for a few more times. Then, she tied her leash to her bluish-white longboard. It was not hers, but of her long-time friend Luke Skywalker. Blue was not really her color but at times, on a sweet sunrise like this one she woke up to, the sky a splendid splatter of pink, orange and blue—and she had to admit, she loved these colors against the smooth and glassy ocean. The sunrise sky and the ocean ahead made her all feel warm and giddy. It was a vesper-like feeling she knew she’d never outgrow.</p>
<p>She gathered Luke’s longboard under her arm and walked towards the sea. As soon as the water reached her knees, she put the surfboard down, laid on her stomach and eagerly paddled out, making sure she was not going towards the direction of the white caps.</p>
<p>She loved waking up in the wee hours of the morning, just a few moments before sunrise. It felt like she was let in on a secret. And the spot she was at was also in a way a secret. Her favorite secret. Just fronting right across the river bend, blocked by coconut trees and bushes, the spot could be reached through a tiny trail several walks away from the milling tourists flocking the resorts. No tourist had reached this spot yet. And the swells here were not for beginners, either. She was thankful of the unwritten rule they had as local surfers—to keep the spot hidden from any foreign feet. She paddled hard and thorough until she was out. She smiled at the thought that she was alone. The ocean was all hers.</p>
<p>She sat on her longboard, letting her feet dangled in the water and watched for the coming of waves. She waited. Her eves marveled at the horizon. As she hoped for the sea to swell into a set of waves, she wondered about Luke, her friend and owner of <em>The Surf Shop Around the Corner</em>. Luke was once a renowned professional surfer but had long retired. And just since last year, he had gone off to travel around the country, eyeing on some sweet hidden surf spots he wanted to take first dibs on—or at least, that’s what she thought. He entrusted her of managing his surf shop and school while he was away. For months, Rey thought she was doing great, acting both as manager and surf instructor, until one day—greeting her like an unwanted storm sea was the sight and sound of a new and massive surf shop and resort being built. And just a few walks right beside theirs. She heard it was owned by one of the famous surfers in the country. Kylo Ren. She had only seen him on TV and although she admired the way he maneuvered a Hang Ten, she was not a fan of how he was about to wipe out <em>The Surf Shop Around the Corner</em>.</p>
<p>She wanted to talk to Luke how to deal with this new threat. But he was always off the grid. For months, she tried calling him and texting him to no avail. Until just recently, he finally messaged her an email address. And it was not his.</p>
<p><em><span class="u">BS152@geemail.com</span></em><em>. This is Ben’s, my nephew. Maybe he can help. Tell him you’re my friend. But don’t tell him your complete name and where you are. No specifics. I don’t want any family finding me.</em> She memorized his last text.</p>
<p><em>BS152? What could it mean? Bullshit 152?</em> She thought. It sounded like the biggest bullshit. She assumed B stood for Ben and S, perhaps could mean also Skywalker, just like his uncle. The 152? She had no clue. Just for the heck of it, she typed out an email, a generic query about surfing. She used what she hoped an equally anonymous email address—<span class="u">surfgirrl@geemail.com</span>. She did not expect Luke’s nephew would reply too soon to a stranger, but he did. And before she knew it, they’d been in a thread of long emails as of late already.</p>
<p>She grunted at the thought of Luke. She and him could talk about anything except family. She thought he was definitely in recluse and did not want to do anything with them. Although she wanted to know why, he would not budge, not even when she tried to insert it in their conversation after getting stoke together from riding some waves. But a few times, she did catch him mentioning Ben. He seemed very fond of him. He was proud he was the first who taught Ben how to surf. He mentioned he was a fast learner and with great potential. There were moments when Luke was drunk, Rey noticed he sounded somewhat disappointed of him, saying the kid was too ambitious. And before she could prod him for more, Luke had already dozed off.</p>
<p>As she was mulling over why Luke would give her his nephew’s email address, from the corner of her eye, she saw someone was paddling swiftly towards her direction. She suspected it was just probably Finn, her friend and also a surf instructor at Luke’s humble and quaint little surf shop and school. She’d love to tease him how surprising it was to see him get up way too early when he’s never been the early bird.</p>
<p>Her gaze focused back to the horizon. And then she saw it. The gentle forming of a wave approaching her. She turned her longboard, laid on her stomach and readied herself to paddle. She was certain she could catch this wave.</p>
<p>“Nice longboard,” she heard an unrecognizable deep male voice.</p>
<p>She turned her head and was momentarily confused. To her right was not Finn. But he was familiar. She saw him before. On TV. It was Kylo Ren, in a black designer rashguard, on his stomach. Rey could not make out if it was a smile or a smirk he’d thrown at her right before he paddled ahead on his black-and-red longboard.</p>
<p>Her shoulders sank just as she felt the wave moved up and dropped beneath her. She missed it. She grunted as she watched the owner of that soon-to-open big and massive surf shop and resort that could drive them out of business stood effortlessly on his longboard and ride that wave that was supposed to be hers alone to catch. He flicked and shook his hair before he cross-stepped. And just as what she had last remembered of him on TV, he did a Hang Ten.</p>
<p><em>How could he have found this spot? </em>She decided she loathed him already.</p>
<p>She shifted her longboard back to the direction of the horizon. She waited and hoped for some nice set of waves soon. And then just moments after, she felt him paddling near her. She clutched the sides of her board tightly and won over the urge to take a side glance at him. She would not be distracted. It felt like a long excruciating wait. Suddenly, she was conscious of what she was wearing. She was in her gray-and-white rashguard and faded black board shorts. She was relieved she had not opted to waer just a bikini bottom and her rashguard. </p>
<p>Just when she thought the sea had turned on her, she saw the beginning rise of a wave. She turned, positioned herself on her longboard and paddled hard, picking up speed. At the corner of her eye, she could see Kylo Ren doing the same. She fought to look straight ahead. <em>This is my wave.</em></p>
<p>And it was. She stood on her board and went straight to the left, just at the same time Kylo Ren was steadying himself up from his longboard. She skimmed the wave, right before he could glide on it. As she went past him, her board almost hit his, causing him to lose his footing and tumble over right into the sea. She did not look back. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead as she shifted her balance and ride out the wave. She was flying fast. She took a few steps forward and back and shifted again, adjusting her momentum.</p>
<p>It was a long ride. And she was glad Kylo Ren was not able to steal her wave this time.</p>
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